


The Facade of Lovely Things

by CaptainofBookNerdUniverse



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Cas is a ghost for all of this story, Dean became a detective, M/M, Purgatory, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-02 01:21:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5228474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainofBookNerdUniverse/pseuds/CaptainofBookNerdUniverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Cas wakes up in an eerily empty and perfect world, he knows that he’s dead. What he doesn’t know is how he died. While uncovering the mysteries behind his death, he struggles to make contact with the living, where the person responsible for his death is still a threat and may be targeting their next victim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I will hopefully get new chapters post every Monday.  
> Like, comment, kudos! Tell me what you think of it!!

When Cas woke up, he woke up alone. As his eyes fluttered open, the first thing he saw was the white of his bedroom ceiling and the glow-in-the-dark stars.

Turning his head towards his windows, Cas saw unbelievably beautiful gold light stream through the thin veil-like curtains. Feeling a weight on his body, he looked down only to realize that it was only his comforter.

Cas slowly sat up in his bed.

He didn't feel right.

It wasn’t like he felt sick, he just felt _wrong_.

Cas placed his palm on top of the comforter. He realized that he couldn’t fully feel the blanket under his fingertips. He could feel it there, but he couldn’t feel the actual softness of the cotton rub against his skin. It was as if he were wearing very thin gloves.

His perception had also changed. Everything around him seemed to have a gold aura, the objects in the corners of his eyes blending together as if object permanence did not exist.

His senses felt muted, and the silence that ran throughout the house was so palpable, Cas could feel it.

He couldn’t hear Gabriel’s loud music blaring from his room, or his father’s typewriter.

Cas sat up, throwing the covers off of him. The moment his feet touched the hardwood floor of his room, a cold wind violently swept up around him. Cas instinctively clutched at himself, his teeth beginning to chatter, his thin t-shirt and cotton pants offering him no warmth.

 _It was supposed to be the middle of_ freakin’ _summer,_ thought Cas.

As suddenly as the cold wind started, it stopped - leaving Cas’ eyes to dart around in confusion. It was still cold.

“Gabriel!” Cas called out. “Dad!”

No one answered.

Castiel stood up and walked to his window. Outside, the weather looked perfect. The sky was blue, the sun was shining, and every one of Castiel’s neighbor had an impossibly green lawn.

How perfect everything appeared to be was unsettling.

Cas tried to open the window, but it wouldn’t budge.

He sighed, giving up.

Cas then walked towards his closet, wanting to find something warmer to wear. He pulled out a large sweater, sweat pants, and a pair of fuzzy socks, but after putting them on, they did little in keeping him warm.

Cas looked around his room. It didn’t even feel like his room anymore. It felt alien.

Cas quickly left, looking for the thermostat.

 

Cas soon discovered that the thermostat did not work. He had also come to the conclusion that he must be dead. His own home felt unfamiliar. Not a single soul was in sight. He couldn’t even catch sight of his neighbor Jim, who would spend the majority of his time out in his garden. The silence was deafening.

 _But this couldn’t be Heaven_ , thought Cas. Wherever he was, it just felt so _wrong_ , and lonely.   
Cas wished he could remember how he had died. His death could hold answers to where he is and why he’s here.

 

The house was frigid.

Cas was freezing cold. No matter where he went, or how many sweaters he wore, Cas always felt as if he were standing outside naked in mid-December. The coldness did not only pertain to the outside of his body; it went deeper than that. It was as if he could feel it in his core.

Every breath he took, Cas felt as if he were hollow.

 

All Cas does with his time is wander aimlessly around the empty hallways of his house.

He felt miserable and cold. The sun never set, so it was daytime all the time. Cas was tired. He wanted to see the moon and the stars. He wanted to see Dean.

His heart clenched at the thought of Dean.

He missed him.

Cas wondered how Dean was faring without him. Probably not well.

Cas had just walked into the kitchen when -

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

Cas froze.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

Cas looked up towards the ceiling - upstairs - where the source of the noise must be coming from.

 _Thump. Thump. Thump_.

It was the first noise Cas had heard in the house since he had gotten here. It sounded as if someone was pounding their fist into the wall. He looked around and spotted a baseball bat leaning against the wall. Cas slowly reached for it, wrapping his fingers around the handle before silently rushing out of the kitchen, heading straight upstairs.

As he got to the second floor, something flickered in the back of his mind. A distant memory.

It came in bits and pieces. Like static from a television.

_A book. Stairs. Fear._

Cas shook it out of his head, concentrating on the task at hand. His grip tightening around the handle of the baseball bat.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

This time, it sounded as if the noise originated from the attic.

Cas creeped his way up the narrow staircase before reaching the door. The thumping noises now becoming more incessant and loud.

Baseball bat in hand, Cas reached slowly for the bronze knob. As soon as his hand touch the cool, round metal, the thumping noises ceased.

Cas turned the doorknob and pushed open the wooden door.

It glided along its hinges soundlessly and Cas was finally able to see inside. Nothing in the attic seemed amiss. It looked exactly like the last time he had seen it. Old boxes covered every square inch, collecting dust. The dust, Cas realized, was not disturbed.

Cas entered the attic and started to look around, trying to see if he could find the source of the noise.

Roaming the attic, Cas could find nothing that could have been the source of the noise. Cas started to leave when something caught his eye. It laid on top of one of the beige boxes. It’s colors stark against the dull brown. Cas walked towards it and found that it was a photograph, taken what seemed like a year ago.

It was a picture of him and his family posing in front of their new home. It was also the first day he met Dean.

 

_"Hey!" said a voice._

_Cas turned around and was stunned by two mesmerizingly green eyes._

_"Heard you and your family were moving in, so my mom baked you guys a pie," said the green-eyed stranger._

_Cas couldn't stop staring at his eyes. His beautiful forest-green eyes. He probably looked moronic - arms full of boxes, standing in the middle of the sidewalk, and silently gaping at this beautiful stranger._

_Castiel blinked and snapped his open mouth shut, hoping that he didn't creep out his new neighbor after only thirty seconds of meeting._

_Cas could feel his cheeks warming up._

_Green-eyes only looked amused._

_"My name's Dean, by the way. My family and I live down the street." Green-eyes -Dean- nodded behind him towards his home._

_"My name's Castiel," Cas said._

_"Castiel," Dean murmured, then put on a lopsided smile. "Mind if I call ya 'Cas'?"_

_Cas shook his head. "No, not at all."_

_Dean's smile widened. "The pie's apple, by the way. Mom make the best pies."_

_"Can't wait to try it," Cas said, smiling. "Tell her my family and I say 'thank you'."_

_"Will do," Dean stated happily._

_"Would you like to come in?" Cas asked._

_Dean's eyes brightened at the invitation. "I would love to. Can't wait to see your face when you try the pie."_

_Cas laughed before leading Dean inside._

 

Cas smiled fondly at the memory. He remembered that not long after their meeting did Dean asked him out on a date. Cas agreed and from then on, they slowly fell in love.

Cas pocketed the photograph. It was the only thing in the house that made him feel warm.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving everyone!! I'll see y'all next week with a new chapter! <3

Cas kept the photograph close, always tucked away in the front pocket of his sweater. All he could do now was walk aimlessly around the empty skeleton of his home.

Cas walked into his father’s study. The room was wide and open, with bookshelves lining one wall and a fireplace at the other. Four tall windows rose at the back wall. Before the windows, stood a large, ornate, oak desk, and a warm, cozy armchair that sat next to it. Cas and Gabriel would often joke that it was their own Oval Office.

Cas remembered how his father would spend countless hours in this study. How the heavy sound of the typewriter would fill every nook and cranny of the house. It acted as an unrhythmic, erratic heartbeat for the house. But since Cas had first woken up here, the sound of fingers hitting keys ceased. It was as if the house had died along with him. When Cas had first stepped foot in his father’s study upon wakening, he soon found out why. The typewriter was missing. His father’s prized, shiny, black typewriter was gone, leaving only an empty space on the large, oak desk.

Cas came and stood in the middle of the room, trying to remember what it felt like when his father inhabited the room.

Cas stood there, motionlessly, toes digging into the rouge-colored persian rug that stretched out over dark hardwood.

A sudden cold breeze blew over him. Cas shivered, reaching for the photograph in his pocket, but for once, the photo gave him no warmth. The breeze increased in intensity until it felt like a full-blown storm. It knocked him from his stance. Cas stumbled as papers that had laid peacefully on the desk were swept up, now flying violently around him, like a tornado. The golden light that poured in through the windows had started to intensify as well, until he couldn’t see anymore.

The winds and the strong light started to die away. Cas found himself on his knees, arms covering his face from the onslaught of paper.

When Cas finally looked up, he saw his father, but he appeared as a hazy dream, like a mirage. Golden light outlined his figure as he stood only inches away from Castiel. He could tell that he was speaking on the phone, but Cas couldn't make out any of the words. It sounded as if his father was speaking underwater. As Cas began to stand up, the golden light faded away until his father appeared more solid and his voice became more comprehensible.

"Gabriel just- just call me back, okay?" his father said into the phone.

Cas noticed that his dad looked worse for wear. His clothes were dirty and stained in multiple places, his hair stood up wildly at ends, and he was woefully unshaven. A beard grew across his usually cleanly shaven face. Cas had also notice the numerous alcohol bottles that littered the study.

His father tossed the phone onto the ground, then sat heavily down into the armchair. Cas watched as his father rubbed a tired hand down the side of his face before reaching for another bottle.

"Dad, stop," Cas demanded, but it didn't seem as if his father had heard him.

"Dad!" Cas tried again, but to no avail. Cas watched as his father chugged down the rest of the contents that were in his bottle.

"Why my son?" his father murmured when his bottle was empty, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He glared down at the glass bottle as if it were the reason for his misery.

"WHY MY SON?" he screamed, hurtling the bottle at the wall, above the fireplace. It shattered in a million pieces.

"He never did anything wrong! He was only seventeen for heaven’s sake!" His father screamed towards the ceiling. "God, he was innocent!"

Then, Castiel saw something his father did only once, and that was when his mother passed away, he saw his father break down.

He sobbed into his hands as he folded himself into his leather armchair.

It hurt Cas that he was the reason for his father's pain. He would do anything to take that pain away.

"Is it because he loved a man?" his father cried. "Is that why you took him from me? If it is then I don't want to set another foot on this filthy Earth you created!" He screamed. "You are no God!"

Cas' father soon faded away, and Castiel was alone and cold once again.  

Cas could only stand there, unable to move.

The state of his father brought tears to Castiel’s eyes. His once kind, pious father. The one who attended church every Sunday, has now turned himself into a broken drunk. And it was all Castiel’s fault. Castiel huffed in frustration. _If only I could remember!_

Castiel rushed out of the study, wondering if he would ever get the chance to see his father again, and if so, if he would be able to make contact.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, a new chapter <3

This was probably the hundredth time Cas walked into the kitchen. Nothing ever changed in this house. Everything was calm and quiet, but Cas was restless. The house gave him nothing to do but walk around without direction.

Cas had tried leaving once, but when he opened the front door all he saw was a dark, thick fog. Nothing like the sunny image that shone through every one of the windows.

Cas opened the fridge. Another motion he had done a hundred times. The kitchen never had any food, the faucets never worked, and the afterlife didn’t have any electricity.

Castiel was closing the empty fridge when a loud piercing shrill stung the air, making him jump. Turning around, Cas saw the wall phone ringing away.

He stared curiously at the phone. In all of times that he has been here, that phone has never rung. He hadn’t even expected it to work. It was an old phone, with a long, spiral wire attached to the end of it. Even when he was alive, Cas didn’t think that it was attached to a landline.

Cas moved towards it, but when he was mere inches away, the ringing stopped.

He stared at it for a few moments. When the phone stayed silent, Cas deflated a little.

Seeming as if it wasn’t going to ring again, Cas started to leave, but the moment he began to turn away, the ringing sounded again.

Cas shot out an arm and snatched up the phone, bringing it to his ear.

“Hello?”

"Cas?" A familiar voice slurred from the other side of the line.

Cas’ breath hitched. "Dean?"

"Damn, I really am drunk." His voice was very muffled and filled with static, but Cas was still able to pick out the words.

"Dean, what are you doing to yourself?" Cas pressed the phone tighter against his ear, his worry gnawing away at him - seeping through his voice.

Dean gave a low laugh.

"Y'kno, you sound like m'. Say somethin else."

Without thinking, Cas said, "I love you."

Silence from Dean. Only the hum of the static breaking through.

Cas wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to say, but he did know that he meant it. He never got a chance to say it to Dean the day he died.

"I love you too, Cas," Dean finally said in a soft voice. "Why can't you just come home?”

Dean’s voice cracked. “Just come home."

A sob broke from Dean and Cas felt his heart break. Then a sound akin to a dying animal tore from Dean's throat.

At that point, Cas couldn't handle it anymore. He quickly hung up the phone and placed as much distance between him and the telephone as much as possible.

From that day on, the phone would ring and ring and ring, but Cas never picked up. He was afraid that if he did, he would hear that sound tear from Dean’s throat again. Cas didn’t think he could take it a second time.

Everytime the phone would ring, Cas would go upstairs into his room in order to wait it out. Trying to block out the shrilling sounds of the telephone. Soon, the intervals in between the calls would become less frequent until they stopped altogether; until the house was back to its usual constant silence.

 

Cas often thought about his father, trying - but always failing - to make contact. If Cas concentrated hard enough, with his eyes screwed shut and his father envisioned with acute accuracy, he could feel his soul start to drift away, but eventually, he would always be pulled back.

After his usual walk of the kitchen, Cas would always come into the study. He would sit on the large armchair and concentrate.

After another failed attempt of trying to find his father, Cas sank back into the chair, dejected.

He felt hopeless. He didn’t like the idea of being isolated in this empty house forever.

His mind drifted onto Dean, hoping that Dean hadn’t killed himself since the last time they had spoken.

Cas sat there, thinking of Dean’s green eyes, and his freckled face, and his brown, leather jacket. Cas thought of Dean’s black 67’ Chevy impala - Baby, Dean had named her as they drove around town. Cas thought of Dean’s arms around him as they laid on his bed, fading into a content slumber.

With each memory, Cas felt lighter and lighter, until, belatedly, he realized that he was no longer sitting in his study, but sitting in a wooden chair in an office.

Cas’ brows furrowed in confusion.

_Why am I in an office building?_

Cas looked around the space and found a calendar hanging from the wall.

Cas squinted at it to look at the date.

_June 23… 2015_

Cas’ eyes widened. Eleven years. It’s been eleven years since his death. To Cas, it had only felt like months.

“Sure thing, Jo!” called a familiar voice behind him. “I’ll have the files in by Monday.”

Cas swivelled around in his seat, his breath hitching.

_Dean._

The man that entered the office was Dean, but at the same time not _his_ Dean. This Dean seemed a lot older, possibly in his late twenties if Cas took a guess, and dark bags clung to the bottom of his eyes, unlike the bright, happy-faced Dean Cas knew.

Dean took a seat behind his desk, not giving any sign showing that he had seen Cas.

“Dean,” Cas said, trying to get Dean’s attention, but Dean continued to show no sign of being able to sense Cas’ presence.

Cas noticed a desk sign that laid on Dean’s desk reading: _Detective D. Winchester_

Dean opened up a drawer and pulled out a manila folder, placing it on his desk.

Cas strained his neck to look over onto the desk. Cas saw that his name was printed on the front of the folder.

“I won’t give up on you Cas,” Dean mumbled, opening the folder.

Dean stayed like that for a while. Reading over Cas’ file intensely. Flipping to and fro from each page.

Finally, when it was six o’clock, Dean sighed and shut the folder, putting it back into the drawer before getting up and putting his coat on.

When Dean left his office, Cas followed.

Cas followed Dean as he visited a bakery around the corner, buying a chocolate-frosted donut. Cas followed Dean as he stepped into a small floral shop, buying a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Cas wondered who they were for, if Dean had found someone else in the past eleven years. A part of Cas was glad. He wanted Dean to be happy. That was until they came upon a cemetery, Cas quickly discovering where the flowers were going.

Dean walked up the grassy hills, passing tombstone after tombstone until he came to a stop at one particular tombstone. Cas looked over Dean’s shoulder to look at the tombstone, expecting his name to be engraved onto it, but instead of reading his name, he read:

_Chuck Novak_

_1964-2007_

_Loving Father of two_

_May he rest in peace._

 

Cas felt as if he were struck by lightning. Shaking his head, he stumbled back.

“No,” he croaked. His father cannot be dead. How can his father be dead? How did this happen? Cas noted the date on the tombstone.

2007… It was 2015 now. His father’s been dead for eight years?

Dean placed the flowers before the tombstone.

“I hope you’re doing well, Mr. Novak. Tell Cas I love him.”

If his father was dead, then why had Cas not seen him anywhere. Where was his father. Was he too trapped in an empty house unable to go anywhere?

Cas just wanted to speak to his father one more time.

Cas thought back to the time when he had last seen his father. Alcohol bottles surrounding him and littering the floor. And to have his father’s death so close to his? That wasn’t a coincidence. Cas knew his father was dead because of him. The grief from his son’s death must have been too much to bear. Cas suddenly thought of Gabriel. The only member of his family left now, unless he too was dead and Cas didn’t know about it. Tears started to slip down Cas’ face, and in his distress was pulled back to the other side.

When Cas found himself sitting back on the armchair of his study just as he had been before, he let out a frustrated scream. He was so tired and angry. He just wanted his family. He didn’t want to be stuck in this mind-numbing hell any longer.

Caught up in emotion, Cas sprung up from the armchair and jumped at the bookcases, yanking down any books he could reach, flinging them across the room.

He hated this. He hated this. He hated this,

Most importantly he hated not knowing how he died. He hated not knowing period. He wished he had read the file Dean had pulled out. He hated how eleven years had passed without him knowing and that his father was dead. He hated not knowing where Gabriel was. He hated not knowing whether Dean was happy or not.

Cas stood there, panting. The bookshelf now empty.

Cas turned around to survey the mess, but when he did everything was as it should be. Not a single thing was out of place. When he turned back around, the books were back on the shelves.

Cas kicked the bookshelf with all of his might before heading off towards his room.

When climbing the stairs, Cas heard a thumping sound coming from the attic. The same noise he had heard when he first arrived here.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

Cas approached the attic stairs.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

When Cas came to the top of the attic stairs, he flung the door open, only to see nothing. Nothing.

Sighing, Cas shut the door and again headed towards his room.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3

Cas sat at the edge of his bed. His head cradled in his hands as he continued to try (and fail) at finding a way to escape.

He suddenly wondered if he could break the windows.

Cas looked up and reached for the small lamp that stood on his bedside table. He tested its weight in his hands before hurling it at one of his windows, but of course, it just disappeared mid-air and reappeared back where it was supposed to be.

Frustrated, Cas got up to pace around the room. He couldn’t be stuck in here forever. He’ll go insane.

Time ran differently here as Cas had discovered when he had visited Dean. A hundred years could have passed and he wouldn’t even know about it.

He had to come up with something.

About mid-pace, Cas noticed that one of the floorboards were loose.

Cas knelt down gently and traced his fingers along the loose floorboard. Easily, he gripped the board and took it out, his head leaning over to peer inside the floor. Seeing something, he reached his hand down, pulling out an old leather scrapbook with the initials A.C. carved into its bottom-right hand corner.

A memory started to surface. Hazy colors coming together to create images.

 

_April 2004_

_Cas was in the middle of chemistry homework when a knock sounded at the door._

_Cas put his pencil down hoping that it would be Dean, but when he opened the door, a middle-aged man stood there instead. He was towering with broad shoulders. A grey beard and greying brown hair framed his face. His hair somewhat reminded Cas of Sam, Dean’s younger brother._

_“May I help you?” Cas asked._

_The man smiled at him, bringing out a hand. “My name is Albert Cain. I’m a neighbor of yours, but you can just refer to me as Cain.”_

_Cas shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Castiel.”_

_“I wanted to welcome you. I know you and your family moved in months ago, and I’m a little late to the party.” Cain chuckled. “You know, I used to live in this house… ”_

 

Cas opened up to the front page and found a news article of a young girl.

 

_Mary Piscine (19) gone missing, 1986_

_... Disappeared after a night at the movies... Body has not been recovered._

_Francis Noah (16) gone missing, 1987_

_... Abducted from her own home..._

_Liam Depree (15) gone missing, 1990_

_... Gone missing from the diner where he worked..._

_Olivia Fields (15) found dead, 1991_

_... Suspected victim of serial killing... Believed her death may be connected to three different deaths in the past... All victims had black hair and blue eyes. Suspected that the serial killer may have a type._

 

Cas quickly flipped through the rest of the pages.

 

_Megan Anne (17), 1992_

 

Flip.

 

_Ashley Eyre (12), 1994_

 

Flip.

 

_Ian Caster (19), 1995_

 

Flip.

 

_Janette Heron (17), 1997_

 

Flip.

 

_Dustin Grace (13), 1999_

 

Flip.

 

**... Serial killer still at large ...**

 

Flip.

 

**Blank.**

 

Flip.

 

**Blank.**

 

Flip.

 

**Blank.**

 

There were still many blank pages left. Castiel closed the book carefully. He remembered.

 

_"You killed all those kids," Cas said, clutching the book tight to his chest._

_Cain just stood there, slowly dragging his eyes up Cas' lean frame, assessing him._

_"I did," he said coolly, "but you won't tell a soul, because once I'm done with you, you'll be dead too."_

_Cain suddenly came towards Cas with as much ferocity as a raging bull._

_Cas used as much force as he could to hit Cain across the head with the scrapbook, but it did very little._

_Cain tore the book out of Cas' hands and threw him against the banister._

_Cas' head hit the rail hard. He blinked back stars as blood flowed down his nose._

_Cain gripped Cas by the neck and shoved him down the stairs._

_Cas heard something crack as he tumbled down. Pain blossomed across his chest as he laid at the bottom, and he knew that he had broken a rib or two._

_Cain came down the stairs, the sound of his heavy boots was like a death sentence._

_Cas could do nothing but lay there. Every time he took in a breath, it felt like knives were jabbing into his chest._

_"You kids are all the same," Cain said. "You run, fight back, but eventually you all die." When Cain was directly above Cas, he unsheathed a knife he had attached to his belt. "You all are so easy to take down."_

_Cain swung down the blade, slashing a neat line across Cas’ neck. Cas felt the blood well in his throat, coming up through his mouth, blocking his airways. He then witnessed Cain position the knife again, preparing to drive it back in before everything faded away._

 

When Cas had came back to himself, the book was opened. One of the blank pages dissipated and a news article took its place. _June 25 2004. After fifteen years, another child disappears off of Livings Street… Castiel Novak... Father comes home to a grisly scene… Body is still missing… Resembles serial killer’s victim profile._

Cas remembered. He remembered. He was murdered and his body was still missing. Cain was still out there. He needed to find a way back into the realm of the living. He needed to find Dean.


	5. Chapter 5

Cas tossed the book to the side and hurried forwards the front door, almost slipping as his socks slide across the hardwood floor.

The fog seemed like the only way out.

The moment Cas came  before the forrest-green door that lead outside, he hesitated.

What if he couldn’t find a way back? What if he’ll never get back?

But then Cas thought of Cain killing another child, murdering another and walking free. He gripped the doorknob. He wasn’t going to let Cain walk free this time. Cas twisted the knob, opening the front door, and peered into the ominous, dark fog. He took a deep breath, and ran.

 

Cas ran until he could no longer see the house.

The fog was so thick, he couldn’t even see four feet in front of him. The fog circled around him perfectly, as if it were giving him a personal spotlight.

Out here in the fog, his senses didn’t feel dulled. He felt alive. His legs burned and his breath was labored. He could feel the moisture of the fog clinging to his skin.

Cas’ running slowed to a stop as the need to catch his breath became too much to ignore.

Castiel stood there, bent over, trying to draw oxygen into his dry lungs, taking a few moments for himself.

After a moment, when his breathing had calmed down, he was able to pick up on the noises the fog contained. Without the sound of his harsh breathing and loud footsteps, he was now able to hear…

Crying, moaning, wailing.

Shapes started to take form in the fog. Humanoid shapes. There were too many of them, encircling him, closing in. Cas panicked. He had nowhere else to go. They were so close now that he could see their faces. They were all people, but they looked inhuman. They moved sluggishly, their skin pasty white - like wax paper.

When they reached towards him, their fingers were gnarled and bony. Their fingernails long and sharp, like claws.

One took a strike at Cas.

Cas stumbled back, falling onto his backside. The claws barely missing his face. The thing was preparing to lunge again until a roaring yell sounded somewhere to Cas right. Cas turned his head in time to see a man jumping into the circle of monsters alongside him, carrying what looked like an old lantern hanging from a long stick.

The ember glow from the lantern repelled the humanoid beings, as if it burned them.

The man growled at the creatures, shining the light onto any one of them that got too close.

Slowly but surely each monster began to turn back, looking back mournfully at what, Cas guessed, would have been their dinner. Once each and every monster had dispersed, the stranger turned to him, stretching out a helping hand.

Cas gratefully took it as the man hoisted him up off the ground.

“Thank you,” Cas said.

“No need to thank me,” the man said, a southern drawl in his voice. “It’s what I do.”

Cas took a moment to observe the man standing before him. He looked like he had stepped out from a different time line. He was older than Cas, wearing black pants, with a thin tan shirt, a black overcoat hung over his shoulders, and on his head, he wore a black cap, brown hair peeking out from underneath connecting down to his thin beard.

“I’m Benny,” he said.

“Castiel,” Cas replied, looking around.

“What were they?” Cas asked.

“Mangled souls,” replied Benny.

Castiel looked at him. “Mangled souls?”

Benny nodded. “People get lost in the fog and slowly go insane, until they’re at the point where they’re no longer human souls.”

Cas gulp at the thought. That could have been him. Stuck in the fog, nowhere else to go. Slowly becoming one of them.

“What about you?” Cas asked. “Why are you out here?”

“I’m stuck out here. I can’t leave,” he said.

Cas furrowed his brows.

“Where is ‘here’ exactly?”

“Brother,” Benny said, swinging his lantern. “We’re in Purgatory.”

For some odd reason, Cas felt relieved. At least he knew that this wasn’t Heaven.

“I’m stuck in Purgatory? Why?” Cas demanded.

“We’re all stuck here, because we have a purpose. Most of us never get to find our purpose. They’re stuck here forever,” Benny explained. “Those who are lucky enough to find a purpose go free.”

“And what’s your purpose?” Cas asked.

Benny shrugged, thoughtfully examining his lantern. “Don’t know. Helping lost souls like you is the only thing that keeps me grounded. The only thing that prevents me from becoming one of them.”

“I need to get in touch the other side. Can you help me?” Cas asked, thinking of Dean.

Benny nodded slowly. “I know a doorway that will get you to the other side, but you won’t be able to get back.”

“That’s fine,” Cas said quickly.

“Once you’re over there, it’ll take _a lot_ of energy to be able to talk to the living,” Benny warned.

“I’ll figure it out,” Cas said, determined.

Benny sighed, beginning to turn away. “Alright. Follow me. Don’t stray, and stay close to the light.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments pls!! <3


	6. Chapter 6

Cas trailed close behind Benny as they meandered their way through the darkness and the fog. Benny repelled any mangled soul that got too close with the light of his lantern.

“They don’t like light,” explained Benny, “They’re souls have become so twisted that they’ve become accustomed to the dark.”

Soon, in the distance, Cas could see something illuminating the darkness up ahead. As they came closer, the light intensified, manifesting into a blinding apparition hovering a few feet from the ground.

To Cas, it looked more like a rip in the universe. As if someone took a large knife and tore a hole through fabric.

It rippled and flickered violently as if someone were electrocuting it all while producing a loud howling noise.

“Well, this is it,” Benny yelled over the noise.

Cas could feel the energy emanating from it, pulling him in - like gravity. Cas took a step forward, then another step.

“There is no set place for where the portal will take you. Wherever your soul wants to go is where it’ll take you. But keep in mind that what you think you want is very different from what you actually want.”

Cas didn’t know what to make of that statement, and he really didn’t want to, not while he was so close to leaving. So instead, he twisted around to to Benny and said,“Goodbye, Benny. And thank you.”

Benny smiled at him. “Anytime, brother.”

Cas turned back around and entered the portal.

 

Stepping through the portal was nothing like the time when he visited Dean. It wasn’t the gentle lifting of his soul and then the feeling of being drifted away in the wind. No, stepping through that doorway was violent. Cas felt as if he were falling through open space. Unseeable forces knocked into him at every moment, making it feel as if he were tumbling through the rabbit hole to Wonderland. His whole being felt as if it were being tugged in different directions. Cas couldn’t see anything. Everything was white.

Cas fell and fell and fell.

Gradually, the white faded, and Cas found himself laying on his back staring at a cloudless blue sky. Green stalks of corn towered over him.

Cas slowly sat up, dusting the dirt from his elbows.

_ Why am I in a corn field?  _

Cas stood up, slowly taking in his surroundings. There was something about this place that was drawing him in.

Seeing the edge of the cornfield, Cas began to make his way out of it, dirt clinging onto his socks. 

Cas sighed, wishing he had put on shoes.

Emerging from the cornfield, he soon found out why this place had such a pull on him.

The cornfield was Cain’s own backyard.

Cas stood there, staring at the back of Cain’s house.

The structure stood there gloomily, as if a rain cloud vigilantly stood over it even though there wasn’t a cloud in sight for miles. 

Cas could feel the house calling to him, welcoming him in.

He moved towards it.

The house looked even more depressing and dead up close. It’s washed-brown color making it appear lifeless.

Cas tried the backdoor and found that it was unlocked. When he twisted the knob and pushed it open, the interior of the house laid before him. Dark, cold, and silent. When Cas stepped over the threshold, he felt the same kind of coldness and the same kind of silence he had felt back in Purgatory. He shivered.

Cas walked around the darkened house, feeling as if Cain were going to pop out around any corner.

He came to a stop at the bottom of a set of stairs that lead up to the second floor, feeling the same kind of pull as he did back in the cornfield.

He carefully laid a foot on the first step. Although his movements never made noise, it didn’t stop him from being cautious. 

Once he made it to the top of the stairs, he followed the pull towards the end of the hallway, which lead him into a bedroom.

The room was very minimalistic with soft light coming through the two windows, brightening the plain white walls, a single bed, and a plain, oak dresser.

Cas’ feet immediately moved toward the dresser, where the pull was the strongest.

As soon as he stood before the dresser, his hands were already pulling out the top-most drawer.

Peering inside, Cas discovered something wrapped in a dirty cloth - the cloth having dried splotches of reddish-brown. 

He slowly reached his hand in and pulled it out, the length of it as long as his forearm. Cas unwrapped it slowly while a small voice in the back of his mind told him that he already knew what it was. His eyes were wide as he stared down at the dull shine of a long blade, dried blood still painted its edges.

Cas recognized it as the blade Cain used to slit his throat.

Cas felt sick. He wrapped it back in the cloth, and placed it on top of the dresser.

Cas peered back into the drawer.

In the far, back right-hand corner of the drawer, he saw a glint of gold.

Reaching in, he pulled out an gold amulet attached to a black leather chain.

 

_ “Hey, Cas?” Dean called, stepping out of the impala. “Keep this safe for me, will ya?” Dean asked, removing the amulet from around his neck. _

_ “Why?” Cas asked, taking it from him. _

_ Dean shrugged. “Sammy’s making me come with him and Jess for a weekend at the beach. I don’t want the waves to steal it from my neck, and I don’t want to just leave it there lying in the sand.” _

_ Cas nodded, placing the amulet around his neck, allowing it to dangle at his chest. _

_ Dean looked at him warmly. “It looks good on you.” _

_ Cas blushed faintly. “Go have fun at the beach,” he said. _

_ Dean leaned down to give Cas a small peck on the lips. _

_ “Love you,” he murmured. _

_ Cas was about to say it back when the honk of a horn disrupted them. They looked back at the impala where Sam was sitting in the passenger’s seat, an impatient look on his face as he waited for Dean. In the back, Jess giggled _

_ Cas revelled in the closeness of Dean for a few seconds before he pushed at Dean’s chest. _

_ “Go,” he said. “Go have fun at the beach.” _

_ Dean looked back at him, raising an eyebrow. “Getting rid of me already." _

_ Cas rolled his eyes. _

_ Dean gave Cas another soft kiss before stepping back into his impala and driving away. _

_ That was the last day he saw Dean. _

 

Cas suddenly heard the front door slam shut followed by shuffling from downstairs.

Panicked, Cas shoved the amulet back into the dark corner of the drawer before stuffing the concealed blade back in, slamming the drawer shut. The sound resounded throughout the whole room, making him wince. 

Cas waited with baited breath as the shuffling below silenced. A few seconds passed, only silence followed. The peace was abruptly broken when booming footsteps sprinted up the stairs. 

Cas didn’t know what to do. There were no places to hide.

Suddenly Cain stood at the doorway, panting harshly.

He looked a lot older than Cas remembered. The lines on his face more prominent, his hair was now borderline white and not as full as the last time he’s seen it. But his towering figure still made him seem terrifying.

Cain’s eyes scanned the room, glazing over Cas.

Cas let out a sigh of relief. Cain couldn’t see him.

“Whoever’s here should come out right now,” Cain warned. “You’ve broken into the wrong house.”

Cain slowly walked into the room, his eyes searching for any clues of an intruder.

Cain made his way towards the dresser. Cas quickly got out of his way as he opened the drawer and pulling out the blade. He inspected it for a little bit before placing it back.

Cain slowly pushed the drawer back into place, his eyes continuing to suspiciously search the space.

Then, something large and colorful bounced off of the window.

Cain advanced the window and slid it open.

“Sorry, Mr. Cain!” a child’s voice sounded from below.

Cain sighed. “It’s alright, Jimmy. Just don’t do it again,” he called back.

“Okay!”

Cain stepped back from the window and quickly closed it shut.

“Damn kids.” Cas heard Cain mutter as he exited the room.

Cas followed Cain back downstairs. Once Cain turned to go down into the basement, Cas made his escape and left out through the front door.

 

The neighborhood had not changed all that much in the past eleven years. Cas had found his house with ease. 

The front door was locked, and no matter how hard Cas jiggled it it wouldn’t open. 

Cas slid his hand off the doorknob, giving up. He stood there, trying to come up with a way to get inside.

Then, an idea suddenly struck him. What if he could get inside without using the door, like the time when he was able to visit Dean.

Cas stood still and closed his eyes, imagining the entrance room. Its wooden floors and open space. The white paint and the staircase leading up to the second floor. The numerous photographs that were precariously nailed onto the wall.

Cas felt his soul become lighter and lighter with each passing second. The moment his soul felt more grounded, he opened his eyes, finding himself in the entrance hall he imagined.

Cas smiled. Much easier that using the door.

_ Thump. Thump. Thump. _

Cas’ smiled vanished.

_ Thump. Thump. Thump. _

Fear and dread unfurled in his chest. The Fear that he might have traveled back to Purgatory plagued his mind, but then that fear disappeared when he realized that he could hear the hum of the air conditioning.

Back in Purgatory, it was complete silence.

_ Then what is that noise? _ Cas wondered.

Cas travelled upstairs, towards the attic, the room where the sound always seemed to be emanating from.

Cas opened the door a tiny bit, peering in through the crack. This time, the noise didn’t stop like it usually did at that point.

Along with the noise, Cas heard… harsh breathing?

Pushing the door completely open, Cas saw Gabriel standing in the middle of the attic, his back towards him, rhythmically punching a small punching bag that hung from the ceiling.

Cas moved towards him, making his way to Gabriel’s side. At least now he knows that his brother isn’t dead.

Gabriel’s face was beaded with sweat, his brows turned downwards in an angry expression.

Gabriel gave the punching bag one last hit, letting out an angered scream before falling onto the floor on his knees.

Cas noticed Gabriel’s bloodied knuckles from not using proper knuckle protection.

Cas knelt beside him.

“Gabe,” he murmured, reaching down to grab Gabriel’s hands, but his only passed through them. Cas just sat there, next to his older brother, unable to do anything.


	7. Chapter 7

Cas stayed with Gabriel for the rest of the day until he went to bed. He watched Gabriel slept, tossing and turning, eventually tossing the covers to the ground. Cas wondered what he was dreaming about.

He glanced at the time and realized that it was nine-thirty. 

He needed to find Dean.

Looking back at Gabriel, he hesitated, not sure if he should leave him alone. After a moment of hesitation, he came to the conclusion that if Gabriel could survive eleven years without him, then he could at least last a couple more minutes of him being gone. Besides, he wasn’t going to take long.

Cas closed his eyes and envisioned Dean. This time, the process was quicker than the last. In a couple of seconds, Cas found himself next to Dean who was stretching himself out on the dark pavement of the road. With his sneakers and his loose-fitted clothing, Cas guessed that Dean was about to go out on a run. 

A light smile tugged at his lips. Cas remembered how Dean always used to hate exercise.

Once Dean was satisfied with his stretching, he started to jog at a slow pace, Cas easily keeping up with him from behind. 

Every few minutes, Dean would pick up the pace, flying down the sidewalks of neighborhoods that Cas didn't recognize. Dean soon turned into Cas’ neighborhood, and Cas realized that they were at the end where Cain’s house stood. Cain’s car was missing from the driveway, which meant he wasn’t home. This was his chance.

“Dean,” he reached out for Dean’s arm before remembering that Dean couldn’t hear or feel him. 

Cas found himself at a roadblock. How was he supposed to let Dean know who the murderer is if he can’t make contact?

An idea immediately formed in Cas’ mind. 

Cas disappeared from Dean’s side, and reappeared inside of Cain’s bedroom - the same bedroom he had found the knife.

Cas rushed over to the window and pounded. He pounded vigorously. The desperation clawing at him with every hit until the whole room grew cold.

Cas spotted Dean jogging into view.

“C’mon, Dean,” Cas murmured. “C’mon. C’mon. C’mon.”

Dean slowed his run, looking around in confusion, finally picking up the noise. 

Cas hit the glass harder, making the frame shake with his force. Dean’s head continued to search his surroundings, trying to find the source of the sound.

His eyes then looked up and landed on the the window.

Cas saw Dean’s eyes widened as he mouthed his name.  _ Cas? _

Cas let out a breathless laugh.  _ Finally.  _

He splayed his hands across the smooth glass. 

Dean made a move towards the house but was stopped by the familiar sounds of tires against gravel as a car pulled up behind him.

Cas’ heart dropped as he recognized the car as Cain’s.

Dean turned away from the house as the car pulled to a stop and Cain stepped out. 

Cas slammed his hand against the window again.

Dean and Cain both turned at the sound, Dean’s eyes searching.

“I’m here!” Cas called. “I’m right here.”

But Dean just shook his head and turned back towards Cain.

Cas couldn’t hear their conversation, but he could see Dean shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head.

Cain laid a hand on Dean’s shoulder and Cas could make out the words “Get some sleep” being mouthed at Dean.

Dean smiled and waved at Cain as he began to jog away.

Cas laid his head on the cool glass. His eyes wet as the feelings of anger, frustration, and exhaustion bubbled in his chest.

When Cas picked his head up to look back out of the window, Dean was already gone.

 

When Cas made it back to Gabriel, he wasn’t in his room where Cas had left him. An imprint in the sheets was the only sign that his brother was ever in the bed. The clock said it was ten minutes past ten. Cas had only been out for forty minutes.

_ Thump. Thump. Thump. _

Cas looked up towards the ceiling. 

_ Thump. Thump. Thump. _

Cas drifted up to the attic where he found Gabriel beating the same punching bag as before.

Cas sighed. “Gabriel, what are you doing? You need to get some sleep.”

As expected, Gabriel hadn’t heard him.

Refusing to leave Gabriel’s side, Cas looked around until he found a box he could sit on.

Walking over, he noticed how his feet didn’t leave imprints in the dust that layered the floor around the boxes. Cas remembered how his socks would collect copious amounts of dirt from the cornfield. He still had on his socks and only the dirt from Cain’s backyard clung to the fabric.

Cas brought his foot up onto the edge of the box, resting his chin on the top of his knee as he gingerly picked at the sock.

He thought about that for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and kudos!! <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's P.O.V.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I haven't been posting. Here's chapter 8!!

When Dean came home from his nightly jog, he headed straight towards his shower and turned the knob on high, revelling in the burn of hot water against his skin.

_ Cas.  _ Had he really seen Cas through that window?

Through Cain’s window? 

Dean stood there under the spray of water.

Why Cain of all people?

Cain was one of those neighbors that liked to isolate himself from the rest of the community, but was a pleasant man whenever he did leave his home.

Now that he thinks of it, Cain had been here before all of them. Everyone who had lived in this neighborhood before Dean’s family and the new sets of neighbors had moved out because of the murders that had occurred during early and late nineties. Everyone except Cain. Cain had been there during the murders and Cain had been there during Castiel’s disappearance.  _ It couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? _

Not to mention, Cain had once lived in what used to be Cas’ house. But that was before Dean had moved here and before Cain had built his little farm house.

It had to mean something that he saw Cas through that window.

Dean replayed that moment in his head. He believed in the supernatural, but he didn’t believe that that aspect of the world could be so striking.

He had thought that if Cas was trying to contact him, it would be in phantom knocks or moving objects. He didn’t expect it to be so startling.

Dean lead out a long shuddering breath.

_ God. _ Cas’ looked exactly the same from when Dean had last saw him.

Dean laid his forehead against the cool tile of his shower wall. The smooth porcelain giving him a small relief against the burning water cascading down his body.

_It could have been a hallucination._ _Just like that phone call,_ he reminded himself dryly.

He still remembered that call. It was only months after Cas had been declared missing, but everyone knew he was dead. No one could lose that much blood and survive.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut.  _ God, there was blood everywhere, but no body. _

Dean remembered getting drunk off his ass one night, when no one was home.

He remembered picking up his phone and calling Cas’ home phone even though he knew that their phone was broken, had been broken for some time.

But he called anyway, and miraculously someone picked up. That someone having a deep gravelly voice Dean knew all too well.

“Cas?” Dean said into the phone, pressing the phone tighter against his ear.

He wanted to hear the voice some more, needed that familiar voice to keep talking, but when Cas had told Dean he loved him, Dean lost it, and that was when the line disconnected.

From then on, Dean called almost everyday for months, but no one ever picked up. Since then, Dean had wondered if it had all been a drunken hallucination, but there was always something in him that hoped.

Dean stopped his shower and got out, drying himself a little before wrapping a towel around his waist. He travelled over to the sink and gripped its cool marble.

Dean had made up his mind. It couldn't have been a coincidence. The police force didn't believe in coincidences.

Cain was connected somehow, Dean just needed evidence to prove it, but without evidence, he can't obtain a warrant for a property search.

Dean’s grip tightened on the edge of the sink. If he was going to solve this case, he would have to take a break from the law for a little bit.

 

The next day, Dean called in sick from work - the first sick day he had taken in years.

Dean waited until it was the evening before putting on his running shoes and jogging around the neighborhood - never running far from Cain’s house. Dean was about to take another round of the neighborhood when he saw Cain getting into his car.

He slowed his run as Cain’s car drove away from the driveway.

It was showtime.

Dean ran up to the house and swiftly picked the lock of the front door, swinging it open.

Looking around to make sure nobody had seen him, Dean cautiously stepped inside, closing the door gently behind him.

He knew he had a few hours at least. Cain usually leaves for a while before coming back late at night. No one ever knew where he went, and no one ever asked.

Looking around, the inside of the house was dark and grey, as if the colors from the outside world had leeched away. It left a deep, somber feeling. Dean wondered how Cain could have lived like this for all those years.

Now that Dean was inside, he didn't know where to start. 

A few feet in front of him was a narrow hallway with an open door down its left wall revealing a staircase to what Dean assumed was the basement. Past the hallway was another set of stairs to the second floor, and then a kitchen. To Dean’s right was the entryway into the living room.

_ Let’s see, _ thought Dean,  _ If I were a murdering psychopath, I would probably keep everything down in the basement. _

Dean started towards the door of the basement when he heard a loud bang sound from upstairs. 

Dean froze. He thought that Cain lived alone.

Dean was about to hightail it out of there, not risking jail time if caught, when the loud bang sounded again, this time twice, almost like a message.

Then it clicked. 

“Cas?” He whispered.

There was another loud bang, almost like a confirmation.

“Cas, if that really is you, bang three times.”

_ Bang. Bang. Bang. _

Relief flooded through Dean. He almost laughed at the feeling of it.

“Alright, Cas,” he said. “Guide me.”

Dean heard something like a drawer opening upstairs.

Dean hurriedly walked down the remainder of the hall and up the stairs. 

Now at the top, Dean paused. 

At the end of the hallway, were two sets of doors: one opened and one closed.

Dean walked down towards them and peered into the already opened room.

His breath caught.

It was the same room in Dean had seen Cas out of.

A drawer was also opened from the only dresser in the room.

Dean immediately went towards it.

Peering inside, he spotted something wrapped in cloth.

Dean reached in and pulled it out, unwrapping it.

It was a knife. And it was covered in blood.

Dean wrapped it back up hastily, not wanting to tamper the potential evidence. He really should have brought gloves and a bag. He extended his arm back into the drawer, looking for anything he might have overlooked. His hand brushed against something small and cold to the touch.

Dean wrapped his hand around it and brought it out. 

When he opened his hand, he almost cried out loud. 

It was his amulet. The amulet he gave Cas the day he went missing.

Dean closed his hand slowly around the small pendant. 

Now he knew. Now he knew Cain was the killer.

 

Dean doesn’t remembered how it all happened. He remembered calling his boss and explaining the circumstances, and the next thing he knew, the police were swarming all over Cain’s house and putting the man in handcuffs the moment he came home, leading him into the backseat of a cop car.

Now, Dean found himself at the station drinking a cup of coffee while waiting for his brother to show.

“Yo, Winchester!” someone called.

He looked up and saw a familiar figure with flaming red hair making her way over to him. Dean tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace.

“Hey, Charlie,” Dean said as his partner pulled up a chair and sat down next to him.

Her eyes were wide as she jumped straight into the question on her mind. “You broke into his house to obtain the evidence? Will that even be liable in court?”

Dean shrugged. “I wasn’t on duty so…”

“Dean,” someone called from the other end of the room.

Dean turned around and smiled. It was Sam, finally.

“Hiya, Sammy.”

But Sam didn’t look happy to see Dean.

Sam made his way towards them and pulled up a chair.

“Really, Dean? No search warrant? You know they’ll use this against you in court,” then turning to Charlie, “Hi, Charlie.”

“Hi, Sam,” she said, waving.

Dean threw his hands in the air. “I was off-duty. Besides, I know you’ll find a way to wiggle me out and win the jury, so no sweat, right?”

Sam sighed, pressing the bridge of his nose in between the tips of his fingers.

“Dean, how did you even know Cain was connected to Cas’ murder?”

Dean licked his lips. “I-I just knew.”

Sam gave him a look of disbelief.

“You just knew? You’re going to have to come up with a better answer, because that’ll be the first question they’ll ask you, and if you say that, it’ll be one more hole to sink the boat.”

“I know!” Dean cried, frustrated. “I - Well I,” Dean fumbled with his words. How was he supposed to tell Sam that he saw Cas’  _ ghost _ at Cain’s window. 

Dean finally sighed, slumping his shoulders. “You wouldn’t believe me.”

Sam sat back, crossing his arms. “Well, make it believable,” he snapped, then after a split second, he sighed, sitting back up and leaning across the table towards Dean. “Because Dean, Cas was my friend too,” he said in a softer tone, “and when he disappeared I wanted his case to be solved as much as you do, but one single mistake could bring us all down. We have to make sure that we appeal to those juries and if the defendant's lawyer discredits you, then we’re done for.”  

Dean didn’t say anything. He knew Sam was right.

Dean pushed himself from the table and stood up.

“I’m getting myself another coffee,” he mumbled before walking away.

Halfway to the coffee machine, a police officer called his name.

Dean turned around. “Yeah?”

“It’s time.”

Dean gulped.

It was time to face Cain.

 

When Dean stepped into the interrogation room, Cain sat at the small metal table, his arms laid out in front of him, attached to the metal surface by cuffs.

“Hello, Dean,” he said, slowly lifting up his head.

“Cain.” His voice was steady and showed a calm that Dean certainly did not hold. To say he was nervous was an understatement. He was terrified. For eleven years he had wanted to find out the truth about Cas’ death, and now he was getting it. 

Dean pulled up a chair and sat opposite from Cain.

Dean placed a manilla folder onto the table and opened it, taking out a picture of Cas and placing it down onto the cold surface.

“Does this face ring a bell to you?” Dean asked.

Cain casually leaned over the table, putting up a show of pulling the photo towards him and contemplating over it for a couple of minutes, tracing his fingers slowly over Cas’ face. Dean sat there, waiting for a reply.

Suddenly, Cain pushed the photo back towards Dean. “He may look familiar. But I’m old. I’ve seen many faces in my life.”

Dean nodded his head minutely. “Well, let me refresh your memory.” 

He placed his finger on the photograph.

“His name was Castiel Novak. He lived on  _ your _ street. On June 24, 2004 he went missing. He was seventeen.” Dean’s free hand was now in a tight fist in his lap to keep it from shaking while his other hand stayed perfectly still on the picture. 

“Now do you remember him?” he said through gritted teeth.

Cain sat back in his chair. 

“Ah, Castiel Novak. I remember. He was a good kid. Smart kid. Sad he had to disappear like that.”

Dean stood up abruptly, knocking his chair over. He slammed both his hands down onto the table and leaned in close.

“Cut the crap,” he growled. “We found the murder weapon and the amulet Cas was wearing the day he disappeared in your dresser. We know you did it.”

Dean’s voice had risen tremendously by the end of that sentence.

Something flickered in Cain’s eyes and Dean knew he got him.

Still looming over Cain, Dean said only one word.

“Spill.”


	9. Chapter 9

"I murdered that kid. Shoved him down the stairs first, then slashed his throat with my knife."

Cain leaned forward.

"I'm not ashamed of what I did."

Dean clenched his jaw.

"What did you do after the murder?" Dean asked.

Cain smiled. "I know this is getting to you. Talking to the psychopath that murdered the love of your life. So why don't you let the big guys handle the interrogation, hm?"

"Tell me what you did after the murder," Dean demanded in a frighteningly calm tone.

Cain sighed and leaned back. "I was going to clean up my mess. Take the body where no one was ever going to find it, but Chuck came home earlier than expected so I had to make do."

"Meaning you left through the back door with the body."

"Exactly."

"Why'd you target Cas?" Dean asked.

"Why wouldn't I? He was right there, easy prey."

"You were inactive for fifteen years, why?"

Cain sighed, hesitating before answering. For a split second, Dean thought he saw an actual human being.

"My wife. Her name was Colette. She was the only one who could calm my blood lust. When she died, the need came back."

Dean nodded, getting up over to the door and knocking three times.

The door opened as a police officer stuck his head into the room.

“This interrogation is over.” Dean said as the officer pulled the door wider.

“Oh, and Dean,” Cain called from behind him.

Dean turned back towards him.

“I’m not done yet.”

Cain’s face was expressionless, but his eyes held a malicious light.

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, well good luck with that,” he said, turning back around and leaving the room.

 

~~~

 

Cas was there during the confession, standing by the dark corner of the small room.

He stood and watched as Cain described his death.

After all these years, it was done. His murder was solved, and now they could all rest.

As Cas followed Dean around the rest of the day, he felt lighter - content.

But everything changed after Dean had gotten back home.

It was late and Dean had just changed out of his suit when he got the call.

“Hello?” he asked, pressing the phone up against his ear.

“Dean?” Jo said, her voice fearful.

“What is it Jo?” Dean asked, straightening his back, the tone in her voice forcing him into high alert.

“It’s Cain. He’s gone,” she said.

“What do you mean he’s gone?”

It was as if someone had pressed play. Dean shot into motion, rushing over to his front door and slipping on his shoes and coat.

“He had one of the police officers as his inside man. We have the officer detained, but no Cain.”

Dean cursed under his breath, walking into his office and taking out the gun he kept in his desk.  
“I’ll handle this.” Was all Dean said through the phone before he hung up.

“Dean, what are you doing?” Cas demanded, rushing over to stop him, but his arms only passed through.

“Dean!”

Dean rushed out door, and Cas knew that he was heading towards the only place Cain would go.

In a matter of minutes, they were standing before Cain’s run-down, wooden home. Cas a little behind him.

It’s windows and one door giving the house its own sad face if that was even possible.

Dean positioned his gun before moving forward.

Cas, the whole time, stood behind him, screaming: _“Dean! Go back! Wait for backup. Dean!”_

But Cas’ pleas fell onto deaf ears.


	10. Chapter 10

Cas watched in horror as Dean moved forward.

“Dean, he’ll kill you,” Cas pleaded, but Dean couldn’t hear him.

They both stopped as a beam of light flickered from the cornfield, bouncing through the tall stalks of corn.

Dean’s grip on his gun tightened as he continued to walk stealthily towards the dark stalks.

Frustrated by Dean’s actions, Cas turned and ran up to the front of the house. There had to be someone.  _ Someone. _

Two bright headlights became visible down the road, coming down his direction.

This was his chance.

Cas waved his arms above his head.

“Hey!” he screamed. “Hey!” 

As they got closer, fear and hopelessness bubbled in his chest.  _ They can’t see me. _

Cas took in a deep breath and channelled all of his energy through his voice.

“HELP,” he screamed on a booming voice.

The car screeched to a halt right in front of him.

The door to the driver’s side popped opened, and a man stepped out followed by a woman from the passenger’s side.

Cas wanted to laugh with joy. It was Gabe. It was his brother.

“You heard that too, right?” Gabriel asked the woman.

She nodded, wringing her hands uneasily. “It sounded as if someone were yelling for help.”

Cas started to jog back to the cornfield. 

“Help me!” he screamed over his shoulder.

“Cas?” Gabe whispered.

“What?” she asked him.

“It sounded like -” 

He stopped talking as they both noticed the shine of the flashlight through the corn field.

“Please!” Cas screamed once more. He could feel his energy fading away. Soon, they wouldn’t be able to hear him anymore.

“Stay here,” Gabe said to her, beginning to run towards the field. “Call the police!”

“Where are you going!” she screamed after him.

“Someone needs help! I’m going to help them.”

The woman muttered something under her breath before taking out her smart phone and dialing 911.

As Gabriel jogged past him, Cas wanted to hug him.

Instead, he fell instep behind his brother with one thought on his mind. 

He was going to save Dean. 

Dean has to live.

 

~~~

 

Dean moved through the cornfield stealthily, silently - never taking his eyes away from the direction of the brief glimpses of light.

He pushed his way through the tall corn, getting closer and closer with each step until finally, he found himself at the edge of a small clearing.

The light had suddenly vanished.

Dean stepped cautiously into the small opening, looking around for clues as to where Cain might have gone. That was when he noticed the ditch in the dirt. A shovel laying abandoned next to it.

Dean stepped closer and found that it looked more like a grave. 

He came closer until he was almost at the edge, peering over.

Dean knew what he would find even before looking.

A body.

He’d found a body. 

Of course, all of the flesh had decomposed, leaving most of the bones and the clothes.

The corpse was clutching a leather journal to its chest.

Dean heard the soft scrape of metal against dirt before something hard smashed into the side of Dean’s head.

Dean collapsed sideways, his gun falling from his hands and skittering into grave. 

Dean cursed himself for being a complete idiot and for not paying attention. Dean tried to blink away the black dots forming in his vision as pain flared through his head.

“You finally found him,” Cain said over him. Somehow he had gotten ahold of the shovel without Dean noticing.

Cain observed him for a moment before continuing.

“I’m gonna put you in with him. Finished this tragic love story.” 

Cain raised the shovel above his head and struck down, hitting Dean square in the chest.

Dean wheezed as he heard a couple of things crack. 

“They’ll look for me tomorrow, but I’ll already be gone.”

Cain raised the shovel above his head again before someone slammed into him, knocking him to the ground. 

Cain hit the ground hard, surprise rendering him motionless for a few seconds. 

In those few seconds, Dean watched as a man - who looked a lot like Gabriel - wrenched the shovel from Cain’s hands and threw it out into the corn. After throwing the shovel, the man kept one hand at the base of Cain’s neck and raised his other hand in a tight fist, beginning to beat down on Cain’s face.

Long after Cain fell unconscious, the strikes continued.

The thought that those punches seemed more personal than defensive briefly crossed Dean’s mind.

After a few more blows, the man stopped and stood up, panting, and Dean realized that it actually was Gabriel.

_ What is he doing here? _ But Dean didn’t really keep on that thought because now he was having an extremely hard time staying awake.

As if he had forgotten Dean was there, Gabriel rushed over to him. 

“Don’t worry, help is on their way,” he said, crouching over him.

Dean’s brow furrowed. He thought he heard two voices.

Then Cas’ face appeared above him and if Dean could gasp, he would.

“Cas?” Dean rasped.

Cas looked down at him with a look of surprise, then with a hint of sadness.

_ Wait, no _ , Dean thought, losing consciousness.  _ Cas looked so sad. He should never look so sad. _

“Hello, Dean.”

Somewhere in the background Gabe was saying something, but all Dean could focus on was Cas.

Dean tried to say something else, but Cas shushed him.

“It’s alright, Dean. I’ll be there when you wake up.”

And with that, Dean succumbed to the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean is NOT dead!! Do not worry!! There is a happy ending!! :)


	11. Chapter 11

When Dean woke, he woke up to the sound of beeping and the smell of disinfectant, which could only mean one thing: hospital. 

Dean gently pried his eyes open, flinching at the harsh light coming in through the windows.

_ So I had survived after all. _

Dean’s memory of the attack was hazy, but he did remember Cas.

_ I’ll be there when you wake up. _

Dean’s eyes darted around the hospital room until they landed on the lone figure sitting on the small sofa by the window, watching the world outside.

Dean held his breath, hoping that it wasn’t a hallucination caused by all the pain medications.

He looked exactly the same from the last time Dean saw him, although, all those sweaters Cas was wearing in this sort of warm weather was laughable.

“Cas?” 

Cas’ head turned and smiled at him. God, how he missed that smile. 

“Dean.” Cas’ sprung up from his seat and was at Dean’s side in an instant, his hands coming up to grasp Dean face. 

“I’ve missed you,” Dean mumbled, taking in the blue of Cas’ eyes.

“I’ve missed you, too.” Cas said softly, the pads of his thumbs rubbing circles onto the sides of Dean’s cheeks.

“How’s Heaven?”

Cas shrugged. “Haven’t been there, yet.”

“What, looking after me this whole time?” Dean teased.

Cas hummed thoughtfully. “Something like that.”

They stood there in comfortable silence for a few moments until Cas spoke.

“I’ve come to say goodbye, Dean.”

Dean’s head snapped up, almost removing itself from Cas’ grip. “Goodbye? But I only just found you!”

“I’ve fulfilled my purpose. It’s time for me to move on.”

Dean began to protest. “But Cas -”

Cas laid his fingers gently on his lips. “It’s time for you to move on too. It’s done. We solved it. I can rest peacefully now.”

Dean felt tears beginning to prickle and well up in his eyes.

“I want you to find someone, Dean. Be happy,” Cas said softly.

Dean nodded and surprisingly, Dean did find that he was ready to move on. The case was closed, and Cas was happy. That was more than Dean could ever ask for.

Cas smiled brightly.

The hospital room surrounding them both began to fade away and everything became bright.

“Goodbye, Cas,” Dean rasped.

Cas laid a hand on Dean’s and another on his face.

“Goodbye, Dean.”

“Castiel,” said a voice from behind Cas.

Cas turned around and Dean could see the glowing figure of Mr. Novak.

“Dad,” Cas said breathlessly. 

Cas looked back down at Dean who had then focused his gaze back up at him. Cas leant down and placed a kiss on Dean’s lips. It was soft and sweet. Everything a goodbye should be. 

When Cas let go, everything faded away as the white light swallowed everything up.

When the hospital room came back, Dean sat there, a peaceful hum coursing through his body, and Dean fell back asleep, a soft smile on his face.

 

~~~

 

When the white light disappeared, Cas found himself standing in his house, but it wasn’t like the house in Purgatory. Here, there was no golden hue. The house here seemed more real, more concrete. 

And there was noise.

Cas could hear the birds chirp and the occasional car drive by.

“Castiel,” said a voice behind him. Cas turned and smiled, breaking into a run.

“Dad!” Cas enveloped his father in a hug, and his father hugged him back.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you,” his father mumbled into his hair. Cas could hear the tell-tale signs of his father about to cry.

“I know, dad, I know. But I’m here, and everything’s going to be okay, now.”

And everything was okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The shortest chapter in this fic, but that’s okay!! This was probably the longest fanfiction I’ve ever written by myself before, and I would like to thank all you who’ve read, or commented, or kudosed. I love each and every one of you. <3


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